


Agony of Parting

by waywardodysseys



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Cussing, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23418805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardodysseys/pseuds/waywardodysseys
Summary: Agent Whiskey survives Cambodia and returns to the States as a criminal. He’s imprisoned and visited by his fiancée. She’s in turmoil as she learns of Jack’s actions but she has to decide what’s best because of the secret she’s holding onto.
Relationships: Agent Whiskey/Reader, Agent Whiskey/You, Jack Daniels/You, Jack Daniels/reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	Agony of Parting

**Author's Note:**

> This is published on Tumblr under the same name. *This fic was requested.*
> 
> “Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.” - George Eliot

The day Jack proposed was the happiest day of your life. 

  
He had told you to dress up to the nines because he was taking you to dinner. You had recalled it wasn’t an anniversary, and it wasn’t your birthday or special holiday.

  
“Why Jack?” You had asked, pestering him for an answer.

  
He had smiled and kissed you soundly, “do I need a reason to take my favorite girl out?”

  
You had raised an eyebrow but shook your head.

  
“Good darlin’,” he had drawled in his Texan accent, “now please dress up for this evening. I want to treat you to a night out on the town while we’re in New York City.”

  
You had watched him leave for the office – the New York City headquarters for Statesman, a private intelligence agency company for the United States.

  
Jack had told you early on in your relationship what he did, and that he would be transferred to whichever city he was needed in. You had reluctantly accepted his job being first and foremost to him, and you knew you were second when it came to his career. But when he returned home and ravaged your body endlessly for days, you felt like you had won first place.

  
Then only a few months ago he had been transferred to N.Y.C. He had asked you to come along too, so you and him could enjoy the city together. You didn’t hesitate to tell him yes. You had been itching to see the expansive city since you had never left the sleepy little town of Denver – your home and where you had met Jack.

  
Jack had greeted you at seven o’clock on the dot. He was wearing a white shirt, black tie, and dark blue jeans. He was sans cowboy hat which meant his brown hair was on display for the world to see – he rarely left the apartment you two shared without the black Stetson. 

  
He held out a bouquet of long stem red roses which you took from him. You inhaled their lovely scent.

  
“You didn’t have to Jack,” you had smiled as you grabbed a vase, added water then the bouquet.

  
“But I did,” Jack had drawled.

  
His eyes swept over your body. He whistled low then wrapped his arms around you. He kissed your neck and moaned deeply.

  
“You look beautiful Y/N,” Jack had whispered, “glad you’re mine.”

  
You had turned his arms and looked into his eyes, “we could stay here Jack.”

  
Jack had cupped your cheek, stroked your skin then dipped his head and brushed his lips against yours softly. His mustache ticking your skin gently. He pulled faintly back then swept a thumb over your lips.

  
“I promise when we return you won’t be able to keep your hands off me,” he had whispered with an indication of lust. 

  
You had smirked, “I can’t keep my hands off you now.”

  
Jack had wrapped an arm around you and ran it up and down your back slowly, “patience darlin’.”

  
You and Jack had left your shared apartment minutes later. He escorted you to a waiting sleek black town car where it drove the two of you to a restaurant near the Brooklyn Bridge.

  
You had forgotten the name by the time dessert came out and the piano began playing “When a Man Loves a Woman” because shortly after the waiter placed the decadent chocolate cake on the table and you had taken the first bite, Jack grabbed your hand and reached into his jacket.

  
“Y/N,” Jack had drawled your name out slowly.

  
You had looked at him with seriousness and put your fork down.

  
Jack had cleared his throat, then scooted his chair back and dropped to one knee beside the table.

  
Your heart had quickened inside of your chest as your eyes glued themselves to Jack’s kneeling form.

  
“Y/N,” Jack had repeated with nervousness in his voice, “you make me the happiest man in the world. The happiest cowboy in the universe. You are my sunrise, my sunset. You are the one I want to wake up to every mornin’ for the rest of my life, you’re the one I want to come home to and fall asleep next to for forever. You are my world, my universe. Will you marry me?”

  
You knew you loved Jack. He was your world and universe in return, but deep down you wondered about his career. It would always come first, he loved doing the spy thing, as you had teasingly called it on occasion when the job came first.

  
Then there was his deceased wife. He had said he was over her; he had moved on. He loved you. But there were times you wondered if you’d ever be good enough for Jack because her memory seemed to cloud and overshadow Jack’s love for you. You felt he wasn’t a hundred percent invested in the relationship he had with you.

  
Yet you loved Jack. It took time for you to love the man because of his job but you grew to accept him, and his career, then you grew to love him. If he didn’t love you, he wouldn’t be on one knee in front of you, in front of other people asking for your hand in marriage.

  
You had smiled and reached over, cupping his cheek. “Nothing would make me happier than to marry you Jack.”

  
Jack had released the breath he had been holding for what seemed to be eternity. He had taken the ring out of the box, slid it on your finger then pulled you into his arms.

  
You had embraced him tightly in return, never wanting to let go.

  
When the two of you had returned to the apartment you couldn’t keep your hands off one another as you made love to one another deep into the night and through the morning light.

  
\-------

  
Now you look down at the pregnancy test in your hand. The two pink lines are vibrant on the display as you look between the pregnancy test, the mirror, and the other four tests laying on the counter. All tests confirming the same thing – you are pregnant.

  
You place the plastic stick on the counter and walk into the bedroom. Its been only you for the past week or so because Jack had been called to help the Kingsman – the British version of Statesman.

  
“They need my help darlin’,” Jack had remarked when he informed you of the news.

  
You knew his work, knew his job and what it entailed. You knew things like this would happen yet part of you wondered if Jack thought you’d be upset about him placing the job first causing you to leave him.

  
You had smiled at him, “I know Jack. I always ask that you come back to me.”

  
Jack had smiled lopsidedly, “I will.”

  
He had brushed his lips against yours. He had pulled back to look into your eyes then pulled you in for a deeper kiss.

  
You had returned the deep kiss by looping your arms around his neck and running your fingers along the ends of his hair.

  
“I love you Y/N,” Jack had drawled after pulling away breathlessly.

  
“I love you Jack,” you had whispered in return.

  
Days later you realized you were late and began to panic.

  
_Maybe it’s a fluke_ , you had thought. _It’ll be here within a day or so._

  
Two more days passed, and you had hurriedly gone to the nearest pharmacy buying one of each of the five pregnancy tests on the shelf. You took them back home and here you are staring down at them.

  
You run your hands over your stomach. You and Jack have created another life. You hadn’t planned on getting pregnant this soon. You two had talked about children after the wedding, and after returning to Kentucky, or even going back home to Denver. Jack had only you. Yet he wanted to make sure you were with and around family if children came into the picture because he wanted you to have their support even though he knew you were strong enough to handle whatever life decided to throw your way. 

  
Your cell phone rings, breaking the quietness throughout the apartment. You run out to the bedroom and pick it up.

  
“Hello? Jack?”

  
“Y/N?”

  
It’s not Jack. It’s a woman. “Um, yes? Who is this?”

  
“My name is Ginger. I work with Jack. He’s listed you as your emergency contact…”

  
Your heart sinks inside of your chest.

  
No, is all you can think as you grasp the phone tightly and sink to the floor.

  
“He can’t be dead…,” is all you whisper as you think of the life growing inside of you.

  
You remember his deceased wife. The life she was carrying inside of her. The life you knew Jack was eagerly ready to hold and raise with her. Then she had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. She died because of drug users, and you knew Jack didn’t care much for those kind of people for taking away her and his unborn child.

  
“Jack’s not dead,” she remarks. “I, uh, I…he’s alive.”

  
“If he’s concerned about me having the blue rash, he doesn’t need to concern himself. I am fine.” We are fine. “I don’t need special treatment for the antidote.”

  
“I’m glad to hear you are okay,” Ginger pauses, “I’m calling because Jack’s coming back as a prisoner.”

  
“Prisoner?” Your focus snaps back to the call, and the woman on the other end. “What are you talking about?”

  
“I can’t give specific details over the phone. It’s best you come down to Kentucky and meet with his boss. He’ll give a more thorough explanation when you arrive. He has to explain what happened to you.”

  
“But I don’t know…”

  
“We are sending a person to your apartment at 10 tomorrow morning. Be ready to go, pack a few things. Everything will be explained when you get here.”

  
*

  
The following afternoon you are escorted to an enormous office in the middle of nowhere Kentucky inside the Statesman headquarters.

  
An elderly gentleman smiles and stands from his spot at an oblong table. He holds out his hand as he approaches you.

  
“Miss Y/L/N,” his voice is weathered, “I’m Champ.”

  
You smile in return as you shake his hand. “Please call me Y/N.”

  
Champ nods curtly, withdraws his hand and points back towards the table. “Please have a seat. I’d like to tell you what I am able to about Jack.”

  
You follow him and take a seat in one of the green leather chairs. Your eyes are on Champ as he takes a seat back at the head of the table.

  
You heart beats rapidly inside of your chest. You wonder what Jack has done to warrant this type of meeting with his boss. You try to calm yourself as you take in the smell of worn leather and cigar smoke.

  
“We did not know Jack had a hidden agenda to keep the antidote from the world’s population until two men from Kingsman informed us of Jack’s betrayal when they returned him to us about forty-eight hours ago,” Champ pauses as he temples his fingers, “I had Ginger call you because you deserved to know. Jack had informed us you and him becoming engaged a few months ago and you are considered his family. She also informed me you needed to know because you are the only person he has outside of Kingsman.”

  
You already knew you were all he had. Jack didn’t have no one until you walked into his life one snowy night on the outskirts of Denver, in some rundown bar. You needed help with your car, and he was the first, and only person, who offered to help you. 

  
Champ clears his throat, “Jack is now a prisoner under Statesman bylaws. He is in our facility with a few other prisoners. You are welcome to see him as often as you like.”

  
“How long?” You squeak out. “How long is he going to be in prison?”

  
Champ shrugs his shoulders, “his case has not reached our presiding authority yet. It could be anywhere from a year, ten, maybe fifteen. It depends on his story and how the presiding authority of Statesman decides to rule.”

  
You look down at your stomach. You close your eyes, keeping the tears in. Your hormones are on overdrive and you don’t need to cry in front of the man who told you Jack could be in prison until the child inside of you is a teenager.

  
Your mind flashing through of what memories Jack would miss – birth, changing diapers, first steps, first words, all the first days of school.

  
Your mind flashes at the memory of how Jack lost his previous wife. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Died in the crosshairs of gunfire because of meth heads. You knew Jack didn’t care for them. After the phone call from Ginger, those thoughts plagued you until sleep finally consumed you. 

  
You knew deep down he’d resort to doing something drastic if it came down to not giving an antidote to someone who does drugs. 

  
Maybe you could have done more for Jack.

  
Loved him more? You loved Jack with all your heart and soul. 

  
Convinced him he was the one for you? You did as much as you could. Tried to make him see you were the person standing in front of him and not the ghost of his past. The ghost he couldn’t have. The ghost who always haunted the relationship you had with Jack.

  
You now come to terms with knowing Jack still had an unyielding grasp on the past, on his deceased wife, on his unborn child. He had done what he did because his dead wife and unborn child were still forefront and center in his life. Not you.

  
“Y/N?” Champ questions as he looks at you. His voice breaking the silence.

  
You look at him, “yes?”

  
“Would you like to see Jack today?”

  
“I, uh, I don’t know,” you reply. You didn’t know how soon you wanted to see him because you feel like this might be your fault.

  
Were you to blame for Jack’s actions? The thought branding itself to your mind.

  
You weren’t good enough; he didn’t love you completely. You were a second fiddle to the true love of his life and their unborn child.

  
“I, uh, I need to go,” you utter as you stand. You need air; you need to think.

  
Champ hurriedly stands as well, “I understand. You may stay at our accommodations while visiting Jack. We’ll offer this much courtesy to you since the prison is on our grounds. Just let the front desk staff know when you are ready.”

  
You nod and turn to leave, wiping the tears falling from your eyes.

  
Minutes later you crash onto the bed in your hotel room, sobbing from the heartache you are experiencing.

  
\-------

  
The next day you are sitting in an open area with tables and chairs inside the Statesman prison facility. It’s deprived of all other people. 

  
You had your bags packed, ready to go after this talk with Jack. You wanted to go home, your home. You were going back to Denver to be with family and raise the child – alone.

  
A metal door opens and in walks a guard, Jack’s behind him. He’s wearing a blue jumpsuit with his hands cuffed in front of him. His hair is faintly unruly and stubble has grown on his cheeks and jawline.

  
“Could you please take these off so I may hug my fiancée?” Jack pleads with the guard.

  
The guard looks between you and Jack. He sighs heavily.

  
“Don’t try anything besides the hug Daniels.”

  
“Thank you,” Jack drawls as his hands are uncuffed. 

  
You stand and smile weakly as Jack makes his way to you and embraces you tightly. You wrap your arms around him tightly in return. Taking in this embrace because it’ll be the last one.

  
You inhale Jack’s smell. Your nose detects the cologne he always wears. A smell you won’t smell again after today. Yet will also remain etched into your memories.

  
Jack pulls faintly and looks into your eyes. He sweeps his mouth against your lips.

  
“Daniels!” The guard huffs.

  
Jack grins at you and winks. 

  
“Scoundrel,” you laugh.

  
Jack motions to the table then both of you sit facing one another. He grabs your hands and takes them into his. His skin is rough yet warm. His hands engulf yours, they always do. 

  
“I’m glad they called you. I need you Y/N. I’ve been pacing the floor and pounding my head against the walls; waiting for them to open my door and tell me you are here.” Jack remarks as he squeezes your hands.

  
You squeeze them back, “Jack.”

  
Jack smiles lopsidedly, “darlin’. My Y/N.”

  
“You didn’t want the world to get the antidote?” You don’t hold back on asking him point blank. You need to know why Jack betrayed his job by not wanting to give the world what it desperately needed.  
Jack looks down, hiding his eyes. 

  
You remove your hands slowly from his. “The world was in need Jack and you choose to be selfish.”

  
Jack looks at you. His eyes conveying hurt and anger. “Drug users shouldn’t be given anything!”

  
“People were dying Jack. Your job was to help _them_ , not help _yourself_ ,” you have to keep your emotions in check. You need to remain calm and collected because you know what you’re going to do at the end of this conversation, “maybe if I had been more, could have done more… you would’ve loved me like your first wife and not resorted to what you did!”

  
“I do love you!” Jack stammers. 

  
“Apparently not enough! You don’t love me enough to think of me before deicing to do what you did? Your fiancée? The woman you are to marry!”

  
“I love you Y/N,” Jack grounds out, “you are the love of my life.”

  
“She was the love of your life! She was carrying your child! You two were to be a family!” You stand calmly. “I am done being second fiddle to her Jack. She is gone, and I am the one who’s here. Well was here, for you.” _Remain strong. For yourself, for the baby._ “I love…no! I loved you!” _No tears. Remain calm._ “I am done Jack. We are. Done.” You slip off the ring and place it on the table. “I hope you find someone who can break through the walls you have built around your heart because _I_ apparently didn’t break them since you were foolish to do something so reckless, so stupid.”

  
Jack stands and reaches for you.

  
You step out of his reach, “goodbye Jack.”

  
_Is she right?_ , Jack thinks, _she was. Is._

  
Jack sighs heavily in frustration and rubs his face. He had been comparing you to Lela, and he shouldn’t have been. He should’ve let Lela go the moment you had walked into his life, but he hadn’t because Lela was the love of his life. Then you had walked into it, and everything changed.

  
_Fuck_ , Jack thinks. He knows he has majorly fucked up _every_ thing.

  
Jack’s silence greets your ears which makes you turn on your heel and leave Jack standing in disbelief and heartache. Leaving him in the dark about the baby you carry inside of you.

  
Today is the saddest day of your life.


End file.
